


Wouldn't it be Nice

by ellewrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: A little bit of angst, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Therapy, implied sex, mentioned past physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellewrites/pseuds/ellewrites
Summary: Bruce tried to lick his lips but it was like his mouth had turned to dust and he could barely move his tongue. Kids? Maybe it was just because they were gay, but Bruce had never really thought about it as a possibility. He knew it was a possibility – that they could adopt or whatever – but still, they had never really talked about it. Even before getting married. In retrospect, it was a glaring oversight, but it just didn’t seem like something Tony would be terribly interested in.Or: 5 times Tony mentions kids + 1 time Bruce does (+ an epilogue)





	1. Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seekingsquake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/gifts).



> A huge, huge, HUGE insurmountable thank you to seekingsquake for letting me use her OC Arizona Rhodes. I just absolutely fell in love with her and it is impossible for me to imagine Tony loving any other baby as much as he loves her. Because of this, I dedicate this piece to her. She has always been an amazing source of support for me as well as an amazing author and I truly don’t think I would have stuck around in this fandom as long as I have without her influence and kindness.
> 
> Additionally -- this was written for ScienceBrosWeek2019 over on tumblr. As per the norm, I write these pretty fast, so my normal editing goes by the wayside. All mistakes are my own.

The evening was nice – maybe a little warm, but the large fan in the center of the screened in porch kept it cool. Bailey whined in her sleep, stretching out on the stone floor, and Bruce reached out with his foot to rub her stomach. He looked up from his tablet and over at his husband who was stretched out on the wooden loveseat, his gangly limbs too long for it, one leg hanging off the seat and the other thrown over the armrest at the knee. His head just barely fit in under all the pillows he smooshed up under it. He was reading too but his tablet kept dipping and jerking upright again, the empty bottle of beer on the floor next to him offering a little explanation. 

“You might be more comfortable in bed,” Bruce murmured with a fond smile and Tony made a noise that could really be interpreted as anything. 

“A valid argument,” he teased gently and he heard Tony huff. 

“I’m reading,” he finally mumbled, mostly interpretable, and Bruce chuckled. 

“About?” he asked and Tony brought the screen close to his face, squinting at it.

“God – fuck – something about genes – that CRISPR article. The new one. Or – it’s old now, from last year, so it’s the old one. The old new one. You know which one I mean.”

Bruce found it hard not to grin at him just as wide as he wanted as he rambled – his  _ husband _ . They’d been married for two years now but it still seemed surreal. He still didn’t believe he really deserved it. The doting husband, the suburban house. The good-paying job and the dog and the weekends relaxing and going to good restaurants with their friends. It was... alarmingly normal. It was entirely mundane. It was  _ perfect _ . 

“Yes, absolutely, I know just which one you mean.”

“Shut up,” Tony sighed, closing the case on his tablet and setting it down beside his empty beer, throwing his other leg up over the arm of the chair and wiggling his shoulders like he was going to settle in for a good long while there. 

“You bitched for like forty-eight hours straight about being old the last time you fell asleep there,” Bruce reminded him and Tony shot him a death glare beneath half-lidded eyes. 

“You certainly haven’t gotten  _ younger _ ,” Bruce pointed out with a smirk and Tony grabbed one of the pillows from under his head and chucked it at him. 

Bailey bolted upright as Bruce laughed, staring between her two owners like they were idiots, and Bruce picked up the pillow that hit him square in the face off the floor next to her and settled it in behind his back. 

“I don’t hear any offers to take this old man to bed,” Tony grumped and Bruce watched with amusement as he grimaced, realizing what he’d said. “Okay, case in point...”

For a moment they were quiet. Bruce really wasn’t going to nag him about it, he was a grown ass man who could make his own bad decisions, and he turned back to his book. But after a while he realized Tony didn’t seem to actually be sleeping – instead, he was staring off across the yard, his eyes far away and unfocused. 

“We should get a hammock,” he murmured. “I think I would like to sleep in a hammock.”

Bruce looked up again, chuckling. It was an easy request. “Done.”

“Remind me to order one tonight. Unless you want to go to HomeGoods or whatever.”

He tried not to balk. Going to HomeGoods with Tony was far down the list of his favorite experiences. It always felt wrong to bitch about it because really, watching his husband devolve into a penny pinching pain-in-the-ass with a penchant for colorful candles, beaded pillows, and bad full-wall canvas paintings of color blocks was about as dumb a thing to get upset about as he could imagine when he grew up watching his own dad literally beat his mom to death, but nevertheless. He definitely did not want to accompany Tony to HomeGoods.

“I think you might have more options online,” he said and Tony nodded his agreement with that. 

Bruce turned back to his book again.

“I think I’d put it to the far right there, by the azaleas,” Tony mused, scratching his chest, and Bruce didn’t bother to look up this time. 

It was easy to listen to Tony talk with half an ear when he was like this. 

“It’ll be pretty in the spring and shady in the summer with that big oak there. Maybe I’ll get a pole, anchor it to the tree on one side and a pole on the other.” Tony’s voice was drifting off a little and Bruce wished he’d just go up to bed. “Yeah... That’s what I’ll do. It’ll leave room for the swingset.”

Bruce blinked and looked back up from his book, laughing. 

“I didn’t realize you wanted a swing set too. I’m not sure I’ll approve that expenditure.”

Tony was really nearly asleep but he mustered up the strength to roll his eyes. “Not now – for our kids.”

He hadn’t meant anything by it, Bruce was sure. He said it in such a bland, casual manner that it was clear it had never even occurred to him that there was any other possible way things would be. But Bruce... 

Bruce tried to lick his lips but it was like his mouth had turned to dust and he could barely move his tongue.  _ Kids _ ? Maybe it was just because they were gay, but Bruce had never really thought about it as a possibility. He knew it  _ was _ a possibility – that they could adopt or whatever – but still, they had never really talked about it. Even before getting married. In retrospect, it was a glaring oversight, but it just didn’t seem like something Tony would be terribly interested in. 

He loved Tony more than any other person on earth but Tony was... dramatic and meticulous and incredibly intelligent and the idea of him sitting patiently for a child as they spilled milk across the table and glued together his shoes and clogged the toilet by flushing toys down it didn’t square. And he didn’t really want his thoughts to wander any further down that road, but unless Tony could be endlessly patient with a child, he just couldn’t imagine bringing one into his life. He wasn’t even sure  _ he _ could be that patient with a child. 

But he would never let another child experience what he did growing up. It was the very least he could do.

Tony chuckled, eyes closed, that easygoing grin across his face that normally made Bruce’s heart race – but it didn't now. Now it just looked like some kind of betrayal as Tony sighed, content, mumbling something Bruce couldn’t even comprehend as he stared at the screen of his tablet, unable to process any of the words there either. 

_ Kids _ . Tony wanted fucking  _ kids _ ? What were they supposed to do with  _ kids _ ?

Bailey seemed to sense his distress and she lifted her head to look up at him, smacking her tail against the floor and he just stared back at her, bemused. 

“You don’t want a little brother or sister, do you?” he cooed softly so as not to wake Tony and her mouth fell open, tongue lolling out and he laughed, leaning down and patting her head. “Yeah, you and me both.”


	2. Drip

Tony was laughing and he smacked the table hard, causing all the bottles on it to jump. He was fantastically drunk and Rhodey was making finger guns at him across the table, white teeth flashing fun beneath his wide smile under the low hanging light over the table, and even Steve was laughing too, hiding his broad grin behind a fist as he twisted his bottle on the table.

Bruce was tipsy and warm and he loved when they met at the bar on Friday night. Some amalgamation of “the guys” always showed up – depending on work schedules and significant others. Clint was at a work event with Nat, Bucky and Sam were out of town, Thor was working late but was supposed to show up later. 

Bruce loved the ritualism of it. It felt like being a part of something, like the college experience he was supposed to have had. He might have wasted his social life in college so as not to jeopardize the extensive therapy he finally had access to, but now he had this. And a husband. And a life. And it had definitely been worth it.

“How in the hell is some nurse going to make a pass at you _at your wife’s ultrasound_?” Tony asked, completely beside himself, but Rhodey just grinned and popped at his collar. 

“I’m just that fly.”

They all laughed and Steve was shaking his head, polishing off his bottle of IPA. 

“Peggy would have killed her.”

Rhodey made a face then as he looked over at him, serious, eyes wide with a scowl. 

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her so mad, and I was there when she dropped Tony’s shit off at his apartment.”

“Ouch, that’s cold man,” Tony shot back, leaning back in the seat defensively as Bruce thumbed his wedding band. 

He didn’t really like to think about the fact that Tony and Pepper had dated. He liked Pepper, a lot, and he liked Rhodey too. And he knew it was all a big laugh to the three of them now but he still hated when Rhodey brought it up. It wasn’t even Pepper so much as that he didn’t like the parts of Tony’s life he didn’t know about. Which was fucked up but then he made no attempt to refute that he was fucked up. 

“Look at this shit though,” Rhodey said, pulling out his phone, moving on easily in his drunken, excited state. 

She was sixteen weeks now and they were the first to have kids so it was new to all of them and Rhodey was beyond thrilled and the novelty of it meant they were all at least a little interested. He played a video of a black and white screen, their baby kicking on that screen, and Tony was completely captivated, his beautiful eyes wide and gleaming. 

“That’s your fucking baby,” he said, a wide smile growing on his face, looking up at him when it ended. “That’s _your_ fucking _baby_!” 

“My _daughter_ ,” Rhodey corrected proudly and Tony slapped the table again. 

“Holy _shit_ man, you…”

It was rare that words escaped Tony but Rhodey was laughing at him, clearly pleased by his best friend’s excitement. Bruce just thought it was strange, having another human being lodged in your gut. He had little doubt Pepper and Rhodey would be doting parents but still – he didn’t understand why anyone would actively choose that. How did you know that you could handle it? How could you want that for someone else? He could barely handle Tony having an ex-girlfriend – creating a life just to subject them to your bullshit seemed cruel. 

“God man, you’re so lucky,” Tony sighed wistfully and Bruce could feel the condensation on his bottle drip onto his hand where he was gripping it so tight that if it were a plastic cup he would have crushed it. 

_Tony is drunk_ , he told himself. _He is drunk and he isn’t thinking about what he’s saying. He didn’t want Pepper any more. He wouldn’t be happier with her. He just wanted_ –

Fuck. That wasn’t any better. 

Bruce tried to force his thoughts on something else by focusing outwards but Steve was talking about how they wanted to start trying next year but it was hard working around Peggy’s school schedule and Tony’s hand was on his knee, rubbing it a little too hard. They still hadn’t talked about it and Tony wanted to add to the conversation but he couldn’t. Couldn’t because he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what Bruce wanted him to say. Bruce’s chest began to ache. 

Fuck. He hadn’t had a panic attack in so long but he could feel it now, edging in. Everything felt way too close and too loud and he looked over at Tony, giving him a tight smile and nodding towards the back, muttering that he’d be right back. 

But instead of going to the bathroom he changed directions and stepped outside. The temperature was changing, the fall coming on quick, and the nights were cool. It felt good on his overheated, sensitive skin, and he leaned back into the brick wall of the building and ran his sweaty palms into the rough texture behind him, trying to ground himself. 

This was so fucking stupid. His mind was screaming at him to run but there was nothing here but the moon overhead and an uncomfortable conversation. His father was dead. Died in prison. No one was going to hurt him. 

It was hard to take a deep breath so he focused on breathing out, telling himself it would pass as he let it run its course. It seemed obvious as he began to think more clearly that talking about children might trigger memories of his father but… fuck. It was hard. 

He realized with a sinking feeling that they were going to have this conversation. Even if that conversation was just to table it for later. And he was going to have to phone his therapist for the first time in months. Fuck.

“Bruce?” 

He was rubbing at his face and he dropped his hands to see Thor beaming down at him as he approached. 

“Don’t tell me everyone ditched you!” 

Bruce managed to laugh a little as Thor reached for his hand and Bruce clasped it, allowing himself to be drawn forward into a warm hug. 

“They’re in there,” he said, his chin barely reaching Thor’s shoulder. “I just needed a minute.”

“Ah, your husband is droning on again?” 

Bruce blinked and laughed, genuinely surprised by that. “Tony?” 

“Unless you are secretly married to someone else,” he replied, tapping his nose, eyes shining. 

“Tony drones?” Bruce asked, following him inside and back to their table as Thor gave a hearty laugh. 

He slid back into the booth next to Tony as Thor pulled up a seat, straddling it backwards and greeting them all but Tony’s eyes were on him, curious, and he reached for his hand, twinning their fingers together, giving his hand a little squeeze. 

‘You okay?’ it asked silently and Bruce gave him a little squeeze back. 

He was okay. They would be okay. They just had to talk. They just had to talk.


	3. Bitter

Bruce lay back in the pillows, sweaty and breathing hard as Tony rolled off him and flopped down next to him, running his hands back through his hair and chuckling. 

“That was good,” he said, his voice warm and generous, making Bruce feel guilty. “Great, even. I really needed that.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, just lay there next to him, staring at the ceiling, listening to him breath. Normally they had a pretty active sex life but it had been nearly a week as he shut down, avoided opening himself up to Tony, not wanting to have the conversation he knew they needed to have, not wanting to think about it or fight. 

But he missed being close to Tony, missed fucking his husband and holding him in his arms and kissing him, and he hated this wedge between them but he just... 

“Was it good for you?” Tony asked carefully, turning over on his side to look at him, picking at invisible lint on the comforter, never this self-conscious. Bruce hated that he did that to him. 

“Of course,” he replied but even he knew it came out too neutral and he felt Tony flinch.

“What did I do?” Tony asked at last, and Bruce knew it was so hard for him to say that. “You’re walking around here acting like I took away your favorite squeaky toy and I – I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. He didn’t want to do this right now but – he was never going to  _ want _ to do this.

“It’s nothing you can fix,” Bruce answered honestly, wishing he weren’t naked. It felt so vulnerable, so exposed. 

“Let me try,” Tony asked, running his fingers against Bruce’s arm, his touch so comforting Bruce hated how it made him feel. “Is it work? Or our friends? Or something I did?” 

Bruce wanted to squirm but he tried to relax, tried to remember this was Tony, who he could tell  _ anything _ , who stuck with him through all his relationship anxiety, who sat with him in therapy and held his hand and listened to him talk about watching his dad beat his mom to death and kissed away all his fears about what they might turn into. 

He turned towards Tony then, unable to meet his eyes, but he tucked himself up against his chest and immediately Tony held him, stroked his hair and down his back, and Bruce knew any frustration Tony felt was falling away when he saw how upset Bruce really was. 

“There’s nothing you can do,” Bruce whispered into his skin, his voice tight, his throat constricted with pain. “My childhood was just so bad and...” 

“And?” Tony asked softly. “Don’t make me guess, baby. I love you. I want you to be happy.”

“And I’ll never be able to be happy,” Bruce replied bitterly, the words tasting like pith in his mouth. “Not when I’ll never be able to make you happy.”

Tony laughed. It wasn’t mean but Bruce buried his head deeper in Tony’s chest, feeling embarrassed. 

“Bruce, baby, big guy, light of my life, moon to my stars, my whole heart – what in the  _ hell _ are you talking about? You make me happy every single day.”

Even Bruce laughed at the outrageous amount of endearments, feeling strangely better at Tony’s exaggeration. 

“Is this about Rhodey and Pep? About Ari? They way you’ve been – wait. Do you think I’m jealous of them?”

Bruce didn’t say anything. He didn’t think Tony was  _ jealous _ , exactly, it was just... Pepper was three days overdue now and it had been two weeks of daily check-ins, of status updates, of constant talk about dropping everything and going to the hospital as soon as that baby was born and... it was a lot. It was a lot for someone who was trying to avoid thinking about having kids at all. 

“Bruce?” Tony asked when it became clear he wasn’t going to confirm or deny that, wiggling away from him a little to try to look at him, try to see what he was feeling in lieu of the words Bruce didn’t want to use. “Is that what it is? Surely you know I am  _ way _ over Pep.” 

He laughed and Bruce frowned. Yeah of course he knew Tony was over Pep, that was years ago, Tony was smarter than that.

“You think I want kids?” 

“I  _ know _ you want kids,” Bruce grumped back and Tony chuckled, letting Bruce bury his face back in his chest and running his palm on Bruce’s back. 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right, you got me,” Tony teased, kissing the top of his head. “But not like, right this second. I’m just excited for them. They’re my best friends.”

“I know.” 

And it was endearing, really, Tony’s excitement was always endearing, it was just...

“Help me out here, babe. What is it?” 

Bruce took a deep breath. 

“I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” 

God, Bruce cursed. Why was Tony making this so damn difficult?

“I don’t want kids.”

“Like... ever?” Tony asked cautiously and Bruce felt the way he tensed and he hated it. 

“Like ever.”

Tony was silent a long time then and Bruce could hear his heart beating and he held his breath, waiting for the fall, waiting for Tony to get mad and get out of bed, go lock himself up in the office while he figured out just how long he was going to stay with him before he’d get frustrated and leave for someone who could give him  _ everything _ he really wanted. 

“Well,” Tony said at last, “you didn’t want to get married once either.”

Bruce’s mouth tightened, letting himself make the faces he wanted to make where Tony couldn’t see them. It wasn’t what he was expecting Tony to say, and he did supposed that was true, but...

“A kid is a  _ lot _ different hun...” Bruce said, feeling like a petulant brat but he knew he wasn’t wrong. “You can’t just divorce a kid.”

“You can’t just divorce  _ me _ ,” Tony replied, laughing, trying to lighten the mood but Bruce wasn’t amused. 

But then Tony’s body stilled and Bruce could tell he hesitated before asking, “but... maybe we can do some therapy and talk about it? Like... about our expectations and fears?” 

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. Tony, asking about therapy, actually asking to talk about shit. Bruce remembered those first few tentative couples sessions well – Tony on the opposite side of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, looking anywhere but at anyone else in the room. But there was so much Bruce needed to say to him that he couldn’t say by himself, so much fear... And eventually Tony understood. Now he was apparently a convert. They really had come a long way since they’d met. He owed it to Tony to at least try, the way Tony had tried for him. 

“Yeah... we should do that,” he murmured and Tony gave him a little squeeze. “But I can’t guarantee I’m going to change my mind.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair, pulling it a little. 

“I know, and I’m not asking you to change your mind, I’m just... I know why it’s hard for you to think about it and I think, maybe, it would help you to explore why.”

For a moment Bruce listened to his husband’s heart beating in his chest and he knew Tony loved him. He knew it. Tony was so patient with him, so patient when he had no reason to be, always trying to find a solution, even when Bruce didn’t want one, always ready to talk it out, to make an effort, even when Bruce had seen him blow off others for asking too much without a thought. Tony only ever touched him gently and even when they fought he only locked himself in the office for a few hours before he came back out with an apology and even when Bruce was hyperventilating or being irrational Tony was there with a hand to hold and – fuck if Bruce knew what he did to deserve that. 

Nothing could make up for his childhood but... if Tony was the rest of his life, then it would come close.

Finally he looked up from the safe thicket of Tony’s chest and met his eyes with cautious optimism. And Tony – Tony smiled back with that warm smile he used exclusively for him and Bruce slid up his body, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss. Their hips aligned, Bruce could feel him start to respond even despite having literally just had sex, and Tony chuckled in the back of his throat, beneath the kiss. 

Bruce just kissed him harder.


	4. Merge

“Gosh, how did you guys make the most gorgeous baby in the whole wide world?” Tony cooed, not even looking up at Rhodey or Pepper as he said it, his big brown eyes locked on little Arizona in his arms like he was never going to look at anything else. 

Bruce supposed he could feel jealousy, but really – he didn’t. It was actually surprisingly endearing to see Tony holding her with a cloth thrown over his shoulder just in case, sweeping around the room like he was on cloud nine. Actually, it made Bruce think of when they danced to their song in the kitchen after their little courthouse ceremony – so happy Bruce thought nothing in the entire world would ever take the smile from his face. Tony had looked at him just like that, just like he was looking at Ari now, and Bruce knew what it felt like to be looked at like that. If anyone deserved it, it was her – a perfect, beautiful, new little creature, innocent and pure and about to be introduced to a cruel world. 

In fact, if he was going to be jealous of anything, it was that she was already starting out with so much better a foundation than he’d had. They spent the last couple weekends here, cooking Pepper and Rhodey dinner, letting them have a break from newborn duties as much as two guys with next to no experience could, and the only thing it made Bruce feel like was an ass that he was going to willingly deny Tony the experience of being a father. 

“Holy shit – she smiled at me!”

Rhodey laughed from the other room where he was bringing Pepper back a drink. 

“She’s seven weeks old Tones – it’s probably gas.”

“Don’t try and take this from me,” Tony shot back, glancing up at his friend with an amused little smirk. 

Rhodey handed Pepper her drink and stroked her bangs away from her face gently. She seemed tired a lot the past few weeks they’d seen her but then Bruce supposed that’s what happened when you had a newborn. She still hadn’t gone back to work yet and Bruce was glad she was able to take so much time off. 

“Why don’t you go up and lay down?” Rhodey offered softly as Tony began singing  _ Sweet Child of Mine _ woefully off-key. “We’ll get you before dinner.”

“Are you sure?” Pepper asked uncertainly and Rhodey gave her that confident smile of his that Bruce was fairly certain was responsible for every ounce of trouble he and Tony got in together in college. 

“We’re three guys, she’s one little baby – I think we got it hun.”

Pepper still looked skeptical but Tony interrupted his song to call over at her – 

“She just ate and we can always come get you if something goes wrong.”

Pepper looked from Tony to Rhodey to Bruce and Bruce nodded encouragingly. Really, he had never even held Ari, he was essentially useless – but even he could run up the stairs and knock on the door if he had to.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she said, standing and taking her drink up with her as they assured her once more they would be fine.

Bruce was pretty sure Tony would stop heaven and earth for that baby if it were required.

Ari made an adorable coo sound and Bruce thought he might have seen Tony’s heart crumble in his chest as he stared as his little not-quite-niece, grinning down at her. 

“Is that right?” he asked as she cooed again. “You’re saving all your smiles for your dear old Uncle Tony? I knew it.”

“Jesus,” Rhodey said, rolling his eyes over at Bruce and Bruce couldn’t help the grin that pricked at his face. 

“Look, we both know it’s pretty hard not to be enamored of Tony,” Bruce replied earnestly and Rhodey conceded, both of them looking over at him fondly. 

“Loveable bastard,” Rhodey muttered as Bruce chuckled. 

He sipped his beer as Tony waltzed her around the room slowly, whispering in a little singsong voice, “she's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain.” Ari was babbling baby nonsense at him and his own eyes were shining and finally he looked over at Bruce and he said the words he had been dreading for the past four weekends. 

“Do you want to hold her?” 

Well, no, frankly – Bruce did not want to hold her. But he knew that he couldn’t say that. So instead he just gave Tony a slightly panicked look and set his beer down but Tony flashed him back a confident smile. 

“She is being so sweet right now and I need to put on a pot of water,” Tony explained but Bruce frowned. 

“I could put on the water.” 

Tony just laughed at him as he handed him the towel from over his shoulder, putting it on Bruce’s. Bruce took a deep breath to settle himself. It smelled like linen. 

“Just be careful to support her head, yeah?” Tony said softly and Bruce held out his arms, gently taking her from him. 

She was heavier than he was expecting, and more wiggly. He held her in his lap with his hands under her arms, cradling the back of her neck, and she kicked out at his stomach. Tony ran affectionate fingertips down the thick, short, soft mat of golden hair on her head.

“She won’t bite,” Tony teased, leaning down to give Bruce a kiss on the top of his head as he huffed. 

He knew she wouldn’t  _ bite _ – she didn’t have any teeth.

Bruce stared at her for a minute, completely perplexed, and he knew Rhodey was laughing at him but he just stared at this pretty baby in his arms and tried to relax. She cooed, making an absolutely ridiculous face, waving her little useless arms around unsuccessfully and Bruce couldn’t help but grin. 

“I know – Tony will be back in a minute,” he told her, feeling stupid talking to her like she understood anything he was saying, but unsure what else he was supposed to do. “I’m not as nice to look at as him.”

She squealed then and kicked again and then smiled up at him with a brief but beautiful smile and suddenly Bruce found himself grinning back, completely enraptured by that smile. 

“She smiled at me too,” he said, kind of a laugh but mostly awestruck and Rhodey made a dismissive sound. 

“She did not.”

“She  _ did _ !” Bruce argued, not willing to take his eyes off her in case she did it again. 

“Tony’s rubbed off on you in a bad way, man – making shit up,” Rhodey teased and Bruce shot him a glare before looking back at his daughter. 

“You just want a little cousin,” he admonished quietly and she stilled, her big eyes gazing up at him, her little mouth making a petite “o” as if trying to look at innocent as possible under his accusation and he laughed. 

Tony was only gone a moment and then he was back and he sat down next to him, smiling softly. 

“You’re a natural.” 

Bruce made a face that betrayed just how much he didn’t feel that way. 

“It might be nice though, yeah?” he said quietly and Bruce looked over at him as he stared down at her, running a finger under her little chin, then looking back up at Bruce with every ounce of optimism and affection he could muster.

Bruce handed him back Ari, watching as he cradled her gently in the crook of his arm, so much more confident than Bruce was, and he didn’t say it, he couldn’t say it, because he wasn’t sure it would be nice. But... 

“I’ll make an appointment,” he murmured and Tony reached out to him, took his hand in his own, merging their fingers together and squeezing. 

He knew Tony knew. It was the most he could do.


	5. Pressure

“I just – I just feel like sometimes, you know, you get to monopolize the shitty dad narrative.”

Bruce flinched to hear Tony say that out loud but he knew it was true. It wasn’t his fault, he was always sensitive to Tony, to Tony’s past and his feelings, but he also knew it was hard for Tony to open up about it knowing everything Bruce went through.

“And can you tell Bruce why you feel that way, Tony?” Maria asked and Tony sighed and stared at the wall. Bruce knew he hated rehashing all this shit. 

“I know he knows but – it’s because even though my dad might have smacked me around a couple times and you know, fucked me up with his alcoholism and narcissism and whatever – he didn’t literally kill my mom in front of me. Like? That’s pretty hard to fucking top.”

Bruce stared at the floor. What was he supposed to say? ‘It’s okay, Tony,’ sounded pathetic. It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay. 

“And how do you feel about this Bruce?” 

Bruce sighed but he knew this was why they were here. Because otherwise he just wouldn’t talk about it. So he had to force himself through. 

“He’s right – it’s not fair,” Bruce responded honestly, risking a glance over at his husband. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you went through.” 

Tony turned to him and gave him a tight smile. 

“I know – but it’s still hard to talk about it with you. And yeah, I know –” he said, turning to Maria and holding out his hand “– at this point, that’s on me. I get that. But that’s why we’re here, right?” 

“I don’t know  _ why _ you’re here,” Maria said. “Bruce says he cares and is willing to listen – do you not believe him?”

“No,” Tony huffed. “Of course I believe him. I’m pretty sure Bruce is the only person who’s ever even tried to listen to at least half the shit I say.” 

Tony shared a small grin with him at that and it made Bruce feel a little better as he grinned back.

“Then what do you feel is so difficult to talk to him about that you need me?”

But then his grin was gone and he shuffled his feet a little, trying not to shut down. 

“I just feel like it’s – it’s hard for him to understand –” 

“Can you talk to him?” she interrupted and Tony sighed out a long frustrated huff and turned to Bruce then, not really able to look him in the eye.

“I feel like you don’t understand that... despite the fact that my dad was a dick... I – I still want to be a dad.”

Bruce tried to keep his face neutral in light of that confession but he swallowed hard and wrung his hands together a little, wishing he was anywhere but there. The pressure to say the right thing was intense but there was no right thing to say.

“I don’t,” he confessed, so softly he was almost afraid they didn’t hear it and they’d make him repeat himself. 

“What don’t you understand?” Maria prompted gently. “That Tony still wants to be a dad?”

“I don’t understand that,” Bruce admitted, “but I also don’t understand how – how he knows he’d be a good one.”

Tony laughed but it wasn’t mean and though they were sitting in two separate chairs, a few feet apart, Tony leaned over towards him. “Babe...”

“Do you not think Tony will be a good dad?” 

“No, I – I mean,” Bruce winced and looked away again, hating to admit any of Tony’s flaws in front of him. “I used to think he didn’t have the patience for it but, seeing him with our niece, I... I don’t know. I think he deserves to be a dad. It’s more like – how does  _ he _ know he will be a good one? Because I... don’t.”

“Bruce,” Tony said sadly and Bruce buried his head in his hands like he could block it all out if he just tried hard enough. 

But Tony? It was impossible to block out Tony. 

“Bruce, baby, come on – you are the sweetest, smartest, kindest man I know,” he said. “I would have killed to have you as my dad, are you kidding me?”

“You don’t know that.” 

“Hell yeah I do – I braved an entire fucking  _ year _ of couples counseling to win you as my husband, didn’t I?” 

He could practically hear the grin on Tony’s face and Bruce couldn’t help but laugh at that. Tony always knew what to say to make him feel better, no matter how inappropriate. 

“Besides – doesn’t your dad make you want to try to be better?”

Bruce thought about that a minute, staring at the pattern of the tile on the floor, green and white with flecks of grey and blue, ugly in it’s sterile simplicity, forcing the rest of the room to make up for it’s gaudiness. 

“He makes me scared I can’t be,” Bruce said at last, the real crux of the issue. 

“Why is that?” Maria asked softly after a moment and Bruce fisted his hand into his palm anxiously. 

“It’s genetic, isn’t it? I – I can’t escape what he’s done to me. He  _ is _ me.”

“There is no scientific proof of that,” Maria argued and Tony got up and sat down next to him, so close their thighs were pressed together. 

“But it’s there – always. I can feel it,” Bruce continued, forcing himself to say it, ignoring the feeling of Tony’s thumb stroking along his knee. “His anger lives inside of me and I – I get scared sometimes that I can’t control it.”

“You would never hurt anyone,” Tony soothed but Maria stopped him. 

“Bruce needs to feel free to express his fears, even if to you they seem unfounded,” Maria chided softly. “Have you ever hurt anyone before? When you felt like this?” 

Bruce huffed out a sigh, staring at his shoes. “Of course. Not so much recently but when I was younger, before years of therapy or whatever – any time I got frustrated enough I would snap. Yell, throw things. I – I hit a girlfriend of mine once.”

He was pretty sure he had never admitted that to anyone outside of his college therapist and the guilt saying those words brought back was nearly unbearable. Bruce could feel Tony’s surprise like a tangible thing. He wanted to dig a hole for himself in the floor below and crawl inside of it where he never had to feel Tony’s eyes on him again but at the same time – Tony had to know, Tony had to understand. His fear wasn’t unfounded. It was very, very real. 

“And this happened how many times?” she asked, somehow managing to keep any judgement from her voice. 

“Once. Just once.”

“And how did you decide to deal with that?” 

“I don’t know I mean... We broke up, obviously,” Bruce admitted, wishing Tony was still in his seat a few feet away instead of up against him, carefully holding his breath. “I had just started therapy and... we talked about it. A lot. Obviously I felt terrible. I still feel terrible. I hate talking about this but if we – if I had a kid and...” 

He trailed off completely, the obvious conclusion easy to draw. But instead of backing away even further Tony slid his hand back across his knee, holding it open for Bruce to take, right between his knees, right in his line of sight and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was beyond selfish but he grabbed Tony’s hand and held it tight. 

“This is before you were medicated for your depression?” Maria asked and Bruce nodded numbly. 

“Yeah, this was... I don’t know. Twelve years ago now.” 

But sometimes it still felt like it was yesterday and he would look at Tony and he would think they needed to get divorced because what if he snapped? What if he did it again? How could he ever live with himself if he did that to  _ Tony _ ?

“I’m not going to say it’s impossible that you would ever hurt anyone again but from what you’ve told me, you’ve been medicated now for over ten years. You’ve been in therapy extensively on and off for over ten years. You are here now, discussing this now, because you have developed healthier coping mechanisms that would prevent you from reacting that way in the future. You can see that, can’t you?” 

Slowly Bruce looked up at her, feeling a little blindsided by that assessment. Sure, of course he  _ tried _ , he was always  _ trying _ , but... 

“Everyone feels anger, Bruce. Everyone is a few bad decisions or painful experiences away from snapping. It’s how you choose to manage that anger, how you choose to react that matters here.”

He knew that, he  _ did _ . He’d been told that in therapy before but... Could it apply here too? Was trying  _ enough _ ? Sometimes it felt like no one else in the world could feel anger the way he did and... 

Bruce was still gripping Tony’s hand so tight he was sure it was falling asleep but he couldn’t help it and he looked at his husband hesitantly, unsure what he would find there when he met his eyes but... But it was just the same look he always saw, the same steadfast love Tony always had for him. 

“But aren’t you scared?” he whispered because he was fucking terrified.

“I have never once been scared of you,” Tony told him back, exuding a confidence Bruce struggled to understand. “And today is not going to be the exception.” 


	6. Record

Tony bought the swing set. It was one of those nice wooden ones with a climbing wall and a ladder that lead into a tower fortress with a slide and two swings attached. They didn’t much discuss it outside of Tony saying something about now that Pep was pregnant again he wanted somewhere for the kids to play, and Bruce didn’t argue. They had stopped arguing. They had stopped talking about it completely. Tony had given up trying to push and Bruce was thankful. Not because he was getting off the hook. In fact, it was just the opposite – he thought about it all the time. 

They were laying on the big rope hammock together as Rhodey helped Ari into the swing. She was so excited to see the playset in their yard she screamed with all her two year old might and ran as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her across the grass, Bailey carefully running alongside her, unsure why she was so excited but ready to play.

Pep was relaxing in one of those Adirondack chairs Tony found at HomeGoods and just had to have, watching her husband and daughter with a smile on her face and a hand on her steadily growing stomach. Tony had been surprisingly pissed at first, muttering something about honeybear not being able to keep his sticky paws off her. But Bruce laughed and reminded him they’d wanted to have their kids close together and there was only one way for that to happen. He still grumbled about it for a few days, but when they started discussing names and plans for the new nursery Tony came around. Despite being ‘way over’ Pepper, he still had a protective streak towards her and viewed her as more delicate than she really was. 

But then Bruce felt he couldn’t be too mad about that. Tony viewed him as much more kind than he really was.

Bailey propped her paws on the hammock, rocking it accidentally as she dropped her tennis ball by Tony’s hip, tongue lolling out excitedly and he chuckled as he picked it up and threw it across the lawn. She darted after it, jumping Pepper’s feet on her mad dash to retrieve it as Pepper laughed and Tony called out an apology. 

Bruce turned and watched his husband, the dappled sunlight of the big oak tree casting across his handsome face. The slow ease of age making its way into the edges of his eyes but it only made him look even more regal. He laughed as Bailey returned, panting and dropping the ball again, nosing at his hand. Tony ran his fingers across her muzzle affectionately before picking the ball up and standing. 

“Our girl needs my attention,” he teased with an easy smile towards Bruce as he threw the ball again, joining Pepper in the other chair as Bailey went after it. 

A year ago Bruce would’ve felt that sentence was loaded, but now? Now he felt like Tony had really eased into the idea that he wouldn’t be a father, not any time soon, and he was okay with it. Bruce really felt their relationship was Tony’s priority now, more than their future. And it was weird. It was good weird but... He  _ had _ started thinking about the future, now. 

“Pitcha 'a me! Pitcha 'a me!” Ari demanded and Tony laughed, pulling out his phone. 

“How about a video, baby?” he asked and she nodded as he hit record and she threw her arms up and made a big, exaggerated cheesy smile, scrunching up her freckled face, and Pepper and Tony both laughed. 

“She obviously takes after you,” Pepper teased and Tony chuckled. 

Bruce couldn’t help but smile as he watched them from the hammock as Ari squealed while Rhodey pushed her. Bailey had given up getting Tony’s attention with his phone out and came to him, dropping the ball on the hammock expectantly. 

“I know,” he teased. “It’ll be an adjustment for all of us.” 

Bruce threw the ball for her and got out of the hammock to get a blanket to lay out for an impromptu picnic tea party, thinking Ari would enjoy that. 

He gathered up some sugar cookies and filled one of this teapots with lemonade and set it on a tray with a few cups, snagging a blanket on the way out and carrying it all out carefully. 

“Can you help me, hun?” he asked, Tony having set down his phone by this point as Ari had moved to exploring the climbing wall in the back. 

“Oh!” Tony stood and grabbed the tray from him as Bruce laid out the blanket, clearing it of wrinkles the best he could. “This is a great idea, babe.” 

Bruce smiled as Tony leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling back at him warmly and it felt so good, it felt so natural between them right now. They had talked about so much that had really, truly terrified him as they took apart his fears of parenthood that they had struggled for a while. But now? Despite the fact that Bruce had never agreed to have kids, it was good again. Tony wasn’t mad or bitter. He didn’t hold it against him or make him feel guilty. He was just... 

God, Bruce loved him so much. 

“Uncle Bruce brought you some tea Ari!” Tony called and after a moment she peeked around the play structure with a wide, curious smile, noting the blanket and the teapot and coming over, clapping her hands. 

“You wanna make me some tea?” Bruce asked as he sat and she joined him, beaming. 

“Tea!” she agreed, grabbing the teapot eagerly and Bruce laughed, gently steadying it. 

“We’ll be careful, okay?”

She nodded, her little tongue in the corner of her mouth as she focused on pouring tea. Rhodey took over Tony’s chair for a moment with his wife as Tony joined his husband and his niece on the blanket, grinning at both of them. 

“I bet this is going to be the best tea in the whole world,” Tony enthused and Ari nodded quite seriously, not even looking over at him as she poured. “It was made in Uncle Bruce’s favorite teapot, so I’m already impressed.”

Tony looked over at him pointedly and Bruce just shrugged a little. Yeah it gave him some anxiety to watch her handle it but... it was okay. It was just a teapot. If it broke, well... It would be okay. 

When she was done Bruce helped her set the teapot down and she looked over at her parents. 

“Daddy!” she called, picking up the cup and very nearly spilling it as she walked it over to Rhodey. “Tea!” 

“Why thank you, sweetheart,” he said as he accepted the offering and she beamed. 

Bruce watched the smile on Tony’s face as Rhodey took a dramatic sip and she giggled, obviously pleased. It was cute. It was so fucking cute and yeah, he knew Rhodey and Pepper struggled with her a lot – she was already precocious as hell and they were constantly complaining about the reports they got from her daycare or sighing over some new story about her antics but... Bruce thought maybe it was like the teapot and that maybe... maybe even when it hurt, it could be okay.

He leaned over a little, close to Tony, resting his chin on the edge of Tony’s shoulder, not close enough to kiss him but close enough to murmur in his ear.

“It might be nice though... yeah?” he said softly, the same thing Tony said to him almost two and a half years ago and it took a moment but he felt it when Tony understood, his whole body tensing up and he didn’t dare look at him for the fear he was imagining it. 

“It might be,” he mumbled back as his hand reached for Bruce’s and he squeezed it. 

Ari came back and sat down in front of them, carefully handing a glass to Tony and to Bruce before taking one for herself and Bruce laughed as he sipped lemonade. 

“This is excellent tea,” Bruce commented with a fond smile and she grinned with a mouth full of cookie as if it really was the best tea in the world. 

Then he stole a glance at his husband who set his own teacup down and finally looked over at him, beaming back at him just as wide as Ari was, like a might have been the best day in the world.


	7. Anything

There were a lot of bad days. 

Peter was not at all what they were expecting. They had decided to go through the foster system, help a kid who was here, who needed someone who really understood the nature of abuse. Still, Bruce knew there was a little part of Tony that wanted a baby or at least a toddler, not an eight year old kid who was too smart for his own good and too depressed to handle any kind of change to his routine. 

But as soon as Bruce heard his story – his father dying in a car accident, his mother committing suicide less than a year later while he was at school, forcing him to discover her body – he couldn’t say no and Tony understood. If it hadn’t been for his aunt, well... Bruce had no idea where he would be now. 

The case worker warned them Peter was difficult. That maybe he wouldn’t be the best fit for two guys who’d never been parents before. He’d already gone through two foster families. He was destructive and he lashed out. Bruce just wanted to give the kid in the picture with the sad blue eyes a hug and a place to vent. Access to the therapy he clearly needed. A safe space to exist where he wouldn’t be judged for his anger. He wanted to help. 

But helping wasn’t as easy as it sounded, even when you understood. 

Peter hated his new school and was sent home nearly every day the first week he attended. He scared Bailey because he liked to yell at her whenever she got close. Bruce knew he was just afraid to form a bond with her but Tony took it hard, locking himself and her up his office for an hour or so, giving her extra treats every time. Peter fought going to therapy and though the therapist said it would get better, he also said Peter just sat there and refused to even look at him right now. That Tony sympathized with a bit more. 

And yeah, he was destructive. The case worker didn’t really define what that meant but the first week Peter put a series of holes in the drywall of his room and when asked about it he just shrugged. Bruce sat on the bed with him as Tony went to the store and brought back drywall patch and spackle and he asked if Peter wanted to help fix it. Peter glared and kicked at the floor and refused. Bruce counted to ten in his head, hating to see the wounded look on Tony’s face he quickly tried to cover up, but he made Peter watch Tony the whole time anyway, so that he knew what affect his actions had. 

They were afraid to introduce Peter to Ari and the new baby and it hurt Rhodey and Pepper not to be involved even though both Tony and Bruce assured them they wanted them to be, they just had to wait until things calmed down a little. And they could never go out to any of their usual social activities because they could never leave Peter with a babysitter. It wasn’t a formal adoption, just fostering, so they didn’t get much time off work besides their own vacation days and it felt like they would never get into a routine. Even meals were a struggle. Peter often refused to eat anything at all or even come down for dinner and Bruce worried constantly about the fact that he didn’t eat, reading articles online about allowing your children autonomy over what they ate the only thing that comforted him at all.

Tony, as short-sighted as he was, wanted Peter to have anything he could give him, anything a normal kid would have, and so he bought him a basketball hoop to put in the driveway. Peter categorically refused to play with him, which Tony took on the chin, telling Bruce that night as they lay in bed together that even if it took ten years one day Peter would play a game of one-on-one with him. Bruce smiled and squeezed his hand and was thankful he had such a positive partner. 

But it was only a few days later that Peter brought the ball inside and smashed it into an oversized, framed photograph they’d taken from their honeymoon suite in  Bali . Glass scratched the picture and rained down across the entire living room and Bruce just walked straight out of the room after he’d come to inspect what happened and into the garage where he did his best not to scream. 

When he’d finally settled down enough to come back in Tony was already sweeping it up as Peter sat on the stairs in “time out” – a thing Bruce had never managed to succeed at implementing despite his best efforts. He was shocked at Tony’s patience and the strained smile he gave him as he cleaned up the mess but he wasn’t too surprised to see the ball deflated in the garage the next day. 

They struggled so much that Bruce was pretty sure Peter would beg to leave during their home visits but instead he just sat there quietly, as well behaved as possible, reporting that nothing was wrong, he liked Tony, he liked Bruce, he liked his school, therapy was fine, and Bruce would just sit there, feeling numb, feeling like he didn’t understand even half of what he thought he did. Tony would laugh and say something smart and the caseworker would laugh too and Bruce would still be sitting there, feeling like a failure. 

Just when things would seem to get a little better Peter would do something else that made Bruce nearly bite off his tongue trying to stop himself from shouting. Tony had decided to grill burgers for lunch one Saturday and Bruce made a big deal out of having every topping you could ever want and Peter rolled his eyes and said something shitty about sardines so when Bruce went to the store he came back with burgers and three different cheeses and tomato and lettuce and onions and mayo and pickles and roasted red peppers and arugula and pineapple rings and chutney and one can of sardines. And he set the sardines on the table with all the other toppings, right by Peter’s place, and when he reluctantly sat down to eat he saw them and grinned. A real, certifiable grin and Bruce took that as a long fought for win.

“Why does he get all the sardines?” Tony asked as Peter inspected the contents of the can with interest and Bruce just shrugged. 

“He requested them.”

“Well I request some too,” Tony said petulantly and Peter just huffed at him. 

“You’re so lame – you wouldn’t  _ really _ eat them,” he said, trying to call his bluff. 

But what Peter didn’t know was that Tony would put nearly anything in his mouth and he never backed down from a challenge. So Bruce watched, trying hard not to laugh as Tony picked up his fork and leaned over the table, spearing one and immediately eating it without a second’s hesitation and Peter stared at him, wide-eyed and completely surprised and even stoic, sulky Peter couldn’t help but start laughing. 

“That is so  _ gross _ !” he exclaimed as Tony swallowed it and grinned and Bruce laughed too. 

“Tony can be pretty gross,” Bruce agreed and Peter made a face. 

“You  _ kiss _ him,” Peter said and then both adults laughed. 

“Yeah but I’ll make him brush his teeth first after that,” Bruce admitted and Tony gasped with mock offense. 

“It’s just a little pickled fish,” he defended but it was just... 

It was just a really nice moment, almost like something normal, and the rest of lunch went well. Too well. Peter played an impromptu game of “have you had this” and listed all kinds of gross stuff – most of which Tony had eaten on a dare in college or at some fancy party his dad made him attend (at least in the case of caviar and champagne, though he was underage when he snuck it, and it wasn’t good enough to warrant the theft) – but even Bruce had a few he could attest to. And afterwards Peter even helped clear the table and put up the left over condiments. 

But it wasn’t even a few hours later before Bruce heard something crash and he took a deep breath to steady himself before turning to see Tony’s laptop on the floor, the screen shattered, an obviously intentional act of destruction because simply dropping it would never have yielded that result. And Bruce swallowed hard to steady himself against the rage that threatened in the pit of his stomach but when his eyes met Peter’s he saw only one thing – fear. 

Peter was absolutely panicked, realizing what he’d done, the severity, how much that computer probably cost, and as Tony walked in with worry creasing his face, asking if anyone was hurt, Bruce wanted to leap across the room and hold him back, tell him Peter didn’t mean it, he was just – it was just – 

But Tony didn't seem mad at all. Instead he just looked at the expensive computer on the ground, shattered, then up at Peter, somehow maintaining a completely neutral expression. And when he finally moved he just crouched down and picked the computer up, setting it back on the table. 

“You didn’t cut your foot, did you?” he asked with the most non-threatening voice he could have managed and Peter just stared at him, wide-eyed and hesitant.

“Let me see,” Tony asked softly, holding out his hand and Bruce watched in fascination as Peter slowly lifted his foot to let Tony inspect it. 

“You know, my man, here’s the thing,” he said gently, releasing Peter’s foot. “Things? They can be replaced. But people?”

Bruce’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Tony look up at Peter, knowing just the kind of sweet, patient, open look he was giving him, the same look he gave Bruce over and over every time they sat in front of a therapist, every time Bruce’s anxiety got the best of him, every time he needed to be reminded that he was loved. 

“People can never be replaced,” Tony said, reaching out and ever so gently touching his arm. “And Bruce and I – we’re never going to replace your mom and dad, okay? Never. We never could. But maybe, one day, if you think you’d like us to be, we could be your parents too. And if you don’t, that’s okay too, but just know that you’re mom and dad? They will  _ always _ be your mom and dad, but we will still care for you the best we can, even when that’s hard. Okay?” 

Bruce could see that Peter wanted to cry but he was trying so hard not to as he nodded his head that Bruce felt the sting behind his own eyes and he wasn’t sure he was going to make so strong an effort. He didn’t know how Tony understood what he had so clearly failed to see. Maybe... maybe he had been doing it a long time. A lot longer than Bruce realized. 

“Would you like a hug?” Tony asked carefully and Peter all but collapsed in his arms and Bruce felt hot tears start running down his cheeks. 

But for the first time in a long time, they didn’t hurt. And he wiped at his eyes as he looked away, his lips working at a smile he tried to hide because even though he was crying it was the first time he felt like maybe, one day, maybe... he’d have a family.


End file.
